


coffee break

by soyoyagi (soyokaze)



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Cafe AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soyokaze/pseuds/soyoyagi
Summary: Professional barista Miyoshi orders a terrible drink every time he visits the local Starbucks because he really, really likes teasing the part-timer.





	1. Barista.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is set in Japan, so things work differently than US Starbucks.  
> Note, from Wikipedia: Kanban is an inventory-control system to control the supply chain.

Monday mornings are rough. The energy of the hustle and bustle of the first morning of the week is always somewhat overwhelming, and almost everyone tries to compensate with caffeine; and that is why Miyoshi always defiantly rejects the offers to man the first shift of Monday in the café he works at. They are a small corner shop, positioned somewhat to the side of the road that leads towards the train station. Small enough to provide an air of privacy, yet popular enough that they aren’t terribly concerned about sales.

It’s a little bit after dinner on a Friday when he’s pulled aside to be seated at the dining area of the dorms with Kaminaga and Odagiri who are trying to get him to cover a shift. The both of them have been trying since Wednesday afternoon. He barely if ever accepts, so he wonders why they keep trying.

“Is it really not possible?” Odagiri asks, expression neutral, yet the way he slightly taps his pen on the solid wood of the dinner table he’s sitting at gives away his annoyance.

Miyoshi shrugs.

“I don’t want to. It’s my usual off day anyway.”

Odagiri, the manager, sighs at him every single time he rejects a shift. Miyoshi pretends he doesn’t know that Odagiri just doesn’t want to be stuck working with Kaminaga, Hatano and Jitsui again. Nobody actually wants to work with them, let alone all three of them at the same time. They are the three out of their four somewhat popular baristas for all the wrong reasons; they can be somewhat coy and flirty in their individual ways. Odagiri tries his hardest to not put Amari into any shifts the other three are in. All of the employees of the café are professional baristas, though the old man Yuuki has made sure they are all proficient in cleaning, taking orders and if necessary, placating customers. It isn’t really a problem on who worked what shift- it’s more of a problem on if they wanted the shift.

“Aw, come on, Miyoshi,” Kaminaga says through bites of a piece of pastry, “it’s been a while since we had a shift together.”

“Miss my skills at foam latte art, do you?”

“As if!” he scoffs, “I’ll have you know mine are so popular, customers keep coming back for them!”

“Those customers are also mine,” Miyoshi sneers, “do you know they sometimes compare the-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Odagiri claps his hands once, loudly, and declares their little meeting over if Miyoshi has no intention of taking his shift. Without further comment, he gets up from his seat and walks away, leaving Kaminaga and Miyoshi staring as his figure disappears down the hallway. That’s new. Miyoshi raises an eyebrow at Kaminaga, who sighs as he leans back on his chair.

“Odagiri seems upset. Is Monday really important to him or something?”

Kaminaga chews on his third piece of pastry before answering.

“Apparently it’s a date. With Madam Chizuru,” he says, “that he’s probably gonna have to cancel.”

Madam Chizuru, Odagiri’s surrogate mother; is an elderly woman who has the same temperament as her adopted son. She doesn’t usually come to visit so it would make sense that Odagiri would want to make time for her. Miyoshi stares at the plate of pastries between them, picks a blueberry Danish and gently bites into it. It’s delicious.

“And you’re trying to get in Odagiri’s good graces by persuading me?”

Kaminaga gives him one of his sly grins, how gross.

“I’ll help you out for a price.”

Kaminaga pouts and walks to his room to get his wallet.

 

Over the weekend, he and Kaminaga roped Fukumoto into agreeing to work Odagiri’s shift by promises of taking chores off his hands and a return favour sometime in the future. Miyoshi actually thought the latter part is actually unnecessary since Fukumoto and Odagiri seem to share at least an amicable relationship, and surely he doesn’t mind helping a friend out, but that is how things are done between them as co-workers. It escapes his mind how it happened; perhaps it was originally a rule implemented by their boss to make sure nobody takes advantage of each other that turned into their workplace culture. It surely hasn’t backfired on them just yet.

By the time Monday morning rolls by, Odagiri is in high enough spirits that he made sure to have extra snacks prepared for their afternoon break, as well as having baked enough pastries for the café to sell that they won’t have to worry for the rest of the day. From his window seat at the café, he watches Odagiri hold an umbrella for Madam Chizuru as they walk off to the park for their picnic outing. On the café’s brick pathway decorated with flowers, they make a pretty picture of a mother and her doting son. Kaminaga had went to greet her and wave Odagiri good bye.

It’s way too early and the café isn’t even open yet, but Kaminaga nags at him for loitering around when he’s refused to work the opening shift anyway. He pointedly sips his morning tea very slowly as Jitsui and Hatano mop the floor and wipe down the tables around him. Breakfast was served earlier in their dorm’s dining hall above the café proper, but he decided to get up a little later than usual and deliberately miss breakfast so he could have an excuse to see Kaminaga fret over seeing Odagiri’s stepmother again. It’s quite entertaining.

Moreover, the tea is not bad; Fukumoto’s brews are always a treat, disregarding Miyoshi’s own that is.

Ten minutes to opening time, he walks out through the back door into the alleyway to ‘get out of the way’ as Kaminaga had insisted him do. It smells like coffee beans, vanilla and sugar even as he stands next to the morning glories that grow on the fencing of their small establishment. A few cats loiter around the area and he makes a face at them. Behind him, he can hear Hatano making a snarky comment about Kaminaga’s skills at roasting the coffee beans.

He begins to walk, without any real destination in mind.

 

His feet brings him to a nearby university campus’ main entrance, a somewhat busy area about half an hour away from the café on foot; surrounded by a canopy of tall trees with several cheap (and unfortunately, by extension, bad) restaurants positioned here and there. The roads aren’t as crowded as it would be in a big city, say, Tokyo, but the mornings are quite busy nevertheless. At a crosswalk, he pauses to consider his options. There is a moderately sized Starbucks outlet somewhere to the left… and several shops around it which are all still closed.

Telling himself it’s just to kill some time before he figures out what to do with his very free day, he walks across the street.

Beyond the glass doors, the air is thick with the smell of coffee. Though the shop itself is air-conditioned, it doesn’t really feel like it since it is busy with customers, even if the actual tables are barely occupied. The queue to the counter is long but not horrifyingly so and he falls into step behind a young girl who is poring over a small book. He peers over the shoulders of the people in front of him to see what sort of person is the barista behind the counter.

Interestingly, there is only one barista on duty. The man has a somewhat scruffy yet still presentably casual hair style and his expression is so straightforward, decent and _honest_ it sets off the part of him that wants to pull at people’s pigtails. From the line, he watches the man make the drinks and hand off the drinks to the customers with a somewhat awkward smile practically dripping forced hospitability. The man seems efficient enough as he mixes the various drinks, though it’s obvious when he finds something a little bit annoying to make because he frowns a little at the order before making it. When it’s Miyoshi’s turn to order, he makes sure to include every single thing he noticed the barista frowned at and maybe some extras. He cheerfully recites his order to the young female cashier who looks absolutely appalled at what he came up with, but is too polite to ask him if he’s sure about his order.

 

“Tall banana-raspberry double squeezed fruit juice, with hazelnut syrup and soy milk, _warm_ ” he says slowly, a frown on his face as he holds out a hand to receive the _Kanban_ card for soy that Miyoshi is holding out.

“Don’t make that face when serving customers,” Miyoshi says, taking a sip of the drink and enjoying the way the man’s shoulders stiffen at the reprimand. Or the drink. Or both. Miyoshi simply watches as he bows slightly with a mumbled apology.

The drink is actually quite nasty, but if there is something he excels at; it’s hiding his thoughts under a sweetly sly smile. The frown that got him is somewhat entertaining too. The barista hastily thanks him for taking his business there and turns around, busying himself with the orders and tending to the five or so coffees on the counter. Miyoshi feels like he’s found a purpose to be there for the day at least. He glances at his wristwatch; its 10am. He’s more or less wasted a whole hour walking and ordering a drink he doesn’t even enjoy.

Miyoshi shrugs and walks over to an empty seat; one at a corner of the shop, shaded by a tree growing by the side of the walkway yet with a clear view of the barista’s working space.

Setting down his drink, he takes out his phone and starts browsing through everything and nothing on the internet just to make it seem like he’s busy, sipping his drink casually. From the corners of his eyes he watches the queue slowly become shorter as the minutes tick by. Every once in a while the barista steals a glance over to him and Miyoshi makes it a point to make eye contact and smile or wave a little, lifting his drink at him every so often. He doesn’t give Miyoshi much of a response except to look surprised the first time their eyes met and nod at him curtly the other times, eyes hastily avoiding his.

What a way to waste time.

An hour and a half later, Miyoshi’s phone battery is almost dead. Thankfully he managed to confirm with Jitsui by text that he’s coming back for lunch before it completely went dead, but it was nothing short of an inconvenience to not have it anyway. The table he chose to sit in conveniently has a charging port, but he didn’t bring his. He didn’t think that he would be bullying any baristas in the area when he woke up in the morning, after all. As he leaves, he makes sure to smile one last time at the barista, who frowns at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Starbucks barista is Sakuma.  
> Thank you for reading! The next chapter will come in perhaps one or two weeks.
> 
> Next time: Miyoshi and Sakuma actually talk to each other. Odagiri has news that upsets the whole team, but especially Kaminaga and Fukumoto.


	2. Opportunities come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments for the first chapter!  
> This chapter ended up taking longer to finish writing than expected, so as apology, the chapter is slightly longer than originally planned.

It’s time for Japanese History; a subject he has great interest in, yet he really couldn’t bring himself to care because Sakuma is extremely hungry. Lunchtime is still in a bit, yet it doesn’t matter, because a hundred yen coin is the only bit of money he has on his person right now. He has somehow managed to forget his wallet back at his room in the dormitory-style housing he’s rented for the semester. It is perhaps a stroke of bad luck that it’s also the one day of the week where he has a full day’s worth of classes at the cram school and work afterwards.

He briefly glances at his wristwatch, wondering if the hour allocated for their lunch break is enough for him to run back to his lodgings, grab his wallet and maybe get some lunch. As the teacher drones on extremely detailed information about the Genpei war, his classmates groan lightly around him, citing hunger and tiredness. His next-seat neighbour whines at him, asking him if he as any candy to chew on. He lowers his head and whispers a soft no.

“Forgot my wallet anyway, so I’m going to have to run back home a bit,” he says, eyes still on the teacher, but using his notebook to cover the lower part of his face.

His classmate, a really cheerful and energetic young man that made friends with him as recently as two weeks ago, called Izawa Kazuo, raises his eyebrows at him.

“Yo, you’re not going to get home on the train are you? You’ll never make it for the next class,” he says, pointedly less covert about talking, “though I’m thinking about skipping too.”

“It won’t do to skip maths, Izawa-kun,” Sakuma says, keeping his voice a low whisper, hoping the teacher doesn’t actually take offence at Higashiyama’s loudness, “And no, I live in the area, actually… about ten minutes away. I’ll be taking my motorbike.”

“Eh, you’re right. If I fail the next test the teachers won’t let me apply for the mock exam…” he mumbles into the table.

“Good luck then.”

“Yeah- wait,” Izawa sits up suddenly, eyes wide.

That attracts the teacher’s attention, and she asks him if there is something he wants to share with the class. Izawa rubs the back of his own head, grins guiltily and apologises for disrupting the class, but he has nothing to ask for. Satisfied with his answer, the teacher simply gently tells him to be more discreet in class. Huffing a breath of relief, he sits back down, slumping a little.

“Man, she’s on to me,” he grumbles, putting his textbook in front of his face, mimicking Sakuma’s own position. Sakuma holds back laughter.

“That’s your own fault.”

“Yeah- anyway dude. If you forgot your wallet, doesn’t that mean you don’t have your license with you?” Izawa says, “Ain’t that, kinda bad? What if you get pulled up by a policeman or something? Aren’t you trying to be a lawyer?”

Affronted, Sakuma splutters, “Well, it can’t be that bad.”

“Nah dude, maybe,” he says, then glances at the mounted clock in the middle of the classroom, “it’ll be lunch time soon, so let’s go somewhere nearby.”

“I just said I forgot my wallet.”

The teacher announces the end of the lesson and several students sigh happily.

“I’ll treat you. How’s that sound?”

 

He couldn’t reject free food.

In fact, he is suddenly really appreciative of Izawa’s whole existence. His suggestion definitely makes things easier on him and his wallet, even if does end up that he just wanted it to be trade. One meal for one complete history assignment due the next week is not a bad deal, in Sakuma’s humble opinion. Lawyer aspirations aside, surviving by not starving due to money shortage is important if he even wants to think about getting accepted into law school. That’s what he said to Izwa at least, when he was teased about it.

“Doesn’t this area look kind of expensive to you?” Izawa says to him, gesturing around them as they walk down a stone-paved street.

Sakuma takes a moment to take in the view. Fashionable-looking clothes stores with cute detailed lettering and picket fences are positioned here and there between what looks like the florist, a few cafes, jewellery stores and a single convenience store positioned to the side, almost intentionally out of the way. The main road has branches that go down angled, winding roads, and small pots of flowers littering them. It certainly isn’t the cheap side-walk ramen shop scene.

“Guess so? I’ve never tried shopping here.”

“Yeah, let me tell you, the prices around here are crazy. I tried one of those,” and here he points to a particularly chique-looking restaurant, “and there was much regret to be had.”

Sakuma raises an eyebrow in confusion. He squints his eyes at the restaurant and sees that it looks like a place where you would need knowledge of western dining etiquette- and perhaps at least a dining partner. He decides to not ask about it.

“You sure you have enough lunch money to pay for us both?”

“Yeah don’t sweat. Where we’re going, the food is nice and affordable,” he says, as he points to the end of the road that winds down a slight hill.

 

He’s lead to a nice little corner shop with flowers decorating the main entrance, and a small, by-the-roadside garden of colourful flowers that has white tables and chairs scattered here and there for customers to sit in. The fencing is leaning against shrubbery of roses, and honestly it feels like something out of a fantasy novel, or perhaps some young girl’s favourite romance comic. The smell of coffee and sugar overpowers any flowery scent that might have been present in the air, though.

He feels quite awkward standing at the front door, waiting to be seated with Izawa chatting happily to a stone-faced man dressed in a neatly pressed suit. He nervously wonders if he’s underdressed; in just his most comfortable slacks and a hoodie-sweater over a simple t-shirt. Izawa is actually quite fashionable; wearing a vest over some patterned t-shirt and tight fitting jeans. Even his shoes seem like it was just shined the night before. Sakuma looks around as he’s lead to a table by Izawa and a waiter who is somewhat shorter than him.

All the customers are somewhat fashionable; beautiful dresses, neatly pressed shirts, nicely set hair and bags that seem to be in fashion are all he sees in between flowers and leaves. He feels so very out of place, that he barely registers when he’s seated almost next to the window, a menu in his hands. There’s a single rose in a small glass vase on the table, and Izawa is chatting to the waiter happily.

“So like I said, I totally would be able to get him here. And here he is, so give me that 3,000 yen,” he’s saying, his hands making this flourishing gesture at Sakuma.

Sakuma starts.

“Excuse me?”

The waiter glances at him almost as if hes nothing worth of interest, doesn’t say anything and bows a little before walking away before he gets a chance to call after him.

“Izawa,” Sakuma almost growls, “Are you playing a joke on me or something?”

Alarmed, Izawa raises his hands in pseudo-surrender.

“No! I’m honestly going to treat you to lunch!” he says, eyes darting to and fro, expression of pure horror.

He’s so obviously looking for a way out that Sakuma is getting really suspicious about his actual intentions. He frowns. Before he could decide if he should just leave Izawa and risk making a scene in the shop, a steaming cup of coffee is placed on the table in front of him.

“I’m sorry for the wait,” an entirely too familiar voice says.

Sakuma looks up just as the waiter stands straight again. It’s not the same waiter as before. In fact, he meets this man often enough that he’s starting to have a nickname for him. Mr. Weird Order; a nickname based on what one would know about someone who comes in at exactly the same time every Monday morning for a month a half, just to order weirdly disgusting drinks and taunt him about it every single time. It’s a Thursday, so he wasn’t prepared to see the smiling face of this man he doesn’t even know the name of. Frozen in place by his gaze, he thanks the man for the coffee if only for courtesy.

“Enjoy your drink, I’ll have your food out shortly,” Mr. Weird Order says without missing a beat, his smile so natural it almost makes him believe it’s not just standard patron-issue smile. He leaves as quickly as the first waiter, and Sakuma is left staring at the cup of steaming coffee and at a grinning Izawa.

“You heard the guy, Sakuma,” he waves at cup, “Enjoy your drink.”

“I didn’t even order it.”

“Call it a complimentary drink then? I don’t want to admit it but the stuff that Miyoshi makes is super good,” Izawa makes a face after saying the name.

“”Miyoshi”?” Sakuma raises his eyebrows, “You go here enough that you know the _waiter’s_ name?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he says, avoiding Sakuma’s gaze, “He’ll work every single day _except_ on Monday.”

Sakuma narrows his eyes at the mention of Monday. Is it a coincidence that Izawa mentioned all of that? It’s all so suspicious, but he decides to humour the guy for a bit and sniffs the coffee. It’s got a strong smell, sort of sweet. He sips it slowly, savouring the taste. The sugar is already added, but somehow it’s exactly to his taste, not too sweet, not too bitter. Almost immediately, he feels relaxed as the warmth spreads from his stomach to his whole body. His surprise must be showing in his face, because Izawa is sporting a cunning grin.

“Isn’t it disgustingly perfect?” he says, “That’s Miyoshi’s specialty; knowing what sort of coffee you’d like just by drinking the stuff you make enough times.”

Something clicks together in his mind, and he opens his mouth to say something, but a voice interrupts before he even manages a word.

“Don’t call it disgusting, Kaminaga.”

Miyoshi is back, holding a tray with one hand. His other hand is resting gently on the curve of his waist. Sakuma blinks, who is Kaminaga? Miyoshi sets his expression in a business-like smile, sets plates of artistically decorated club sandwiches on the table, and a tall drink of what looks like hot chocolate next to Izawa. The man carries himself so gracefully that he can’t help but follow the ends of his fingertips with his eyes.

“It was a compliment, if you’d listen a little bit more closely,” Izawa says, looking at Sakuma almost as if expecting something.

“Use more positive words in your compliments,” is Miyoshi’s dry reply.

Miyoshi doesn’t leave this time, but stares at Sakuma, almost carefully.

Sakuma grips the handle of his cup a little tighter.

“You are definitely messing with me, Izawa- Or is your name really Kaminaga?”

The person he thought was a friend smiles at him in a sort of predatory way. Sakuma grits his teeth.

“And you,” he says, addressing Miyoshi, “You’ve been messing with me for a while now.”

They both have matching sly fox-like grins now and to be quite frank, he’s very ready to fight them, but Miyoshi has already pulled a chair from somewhere and is sitting next to him. He leans in, putting a hand on Sakuma’s shoulder to keep him from getting up. He’s surprisingly strong, though Sakuma isn’t really excited to test the limits of said strength. The sound of customers chattering out on the garden behind him sound way too cheery for this situation.

“Calm down, Sakuma-san. If you make a scene we’ll have to kick you out of the shop,” the tone Miyoshi’s using is very casual, but the sentence and the pressure on his shoulder is enough of a threat that he stays put in his absurdly comfortable cushioned seat.

“Ok, so we were messing with you, I admit,” Izawa (Kaminaga?) is slumped against his own seat, “But it’s all Miyoshi’s idea, so don’t hate me. Hate him. Oh, and my name really is Izawa Kazuo, but here I’m Kaminaga.”

Feeling a headache coming, he just stares at the men blankly, hoping the offence shows on his face.

“You work here,” Sakuma says.

“That’s right! I’m a barista! Just like you!”

 

Sakuma tries his best to remember if he’s told the man what his part time job is or if Miyoshi did. When Miyoshi gestures at the cup so that Sakuma would drink more of his coffee, he decides that it really doesn’t matter who knew what, since it seems they all know so much about him that he never really had to say somehow. The coffee is good, so he obliges. Seeing him drink perhaps makes Miyoshi more convinced that Sakuma won’t just run off suddenly, as he loosens the grip on his shoulder.

“Part time?” he ventures, “You still go to classes at the cram school.”

“No, he’s a full time employee here. The school thing is just his hobby. Certificates and such,” Miyoshi says, “And that’s related to the reason we’ve called you here.”

“Or are you really having fun messing with me?” good coffee aside, Sakuma is just really tired. He eyes the food in front of him, he isn’t sure if the food just looks really good, or if he’s really hungry and irritable. His stomach growls as if to answer him. The two men in his company chuckle at the sound.

“You can eat before we have this talk, Sakuma-san,” Miyoshi says.

“How come you’re nice to him and not to me, Miyoshi?”

Sakuma chokes on his coffee.

“This is being nice?” he asks, incredulous.

“Well you’re the one drinking Miyoshi’s coffee right now, not me,” Kaminaga says, sipping on his own quite happily anyway.

Startled at that comment, he stares at the cup in his hand and glances at Miyoshi, who seems to be avoiding his gaze, tucking a stray lock of brown hair into the back of his ear instead. He’s failing to understand what is actually happening right now, and he’s not sure if he even has enough time to make sense of it. He decides to just stuff his mouth with food instead of trying to think further. If what they’re going to say will be much too ridiculous, he’ll just take his leave and maybe never talk to the student known as Izawa Kazuo ever again. He’ll have to think of what to do with Miyoshi’s weekly pestering of him at Starbucks though.

The food is, as promised; delicious. Perhaps to let them eat in peace, Miyoshi leaves to tend to other customers. It was then when he realised that they were the only ones sitting in the café proper; instead of being seated outside. Kaminaga tries to make casual conversation in the ten or so minutes they’re left together to eat, and he listens half-heartedly. He makes comments whenever he feels he should, but finds himself watching the counter instead as Miyoshi and another barista, taller than him, work on drinks.

It’s somewhat relaxing, even if he’s still reeling from the conversation they just had. It was obvious that they only tricked him into coming there, and it seems the food is still free, but the sense of apprehension is making him nervous anyway. What would a bunch of baristas need him for? Asking Kaminaga doesn’t yield him any results; as he says that Miyoshi tells him to not spill. Maybe because it’s close to the end of the lunch rush hour; but customers are steadily leaving, leaving the tables empty save for a few dishes, cups and decorative flowers.

 

Their first waiter, a somewhat pleasant young man Kaminaga helpfully introduces as Jitsui clears their table for them after they’re done with the meal, but doesn’t return. After a while, another man, dressed similarly to the rest of the employees in the shop but with a small badge that says ‘Manager’ on his lapel, comes to greet them. Belatedly, he realises that this is the man that had talked to Kaminaga at the front door.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he says, probably by way of common shop-keeping courtesy, but Sakuma smiles at him anyway.

“Kind of. The food and drink is good and,” sheepishly, he gestures to the whole place, “It’s nice here.”

He can almost feel Kaminaga grinning at him, and tries to not make a face.

“I’m sorry our employees treated you…in an undesirable way,” the man says so very gravely that it makes Sakuma worry, “I’m Odagiri, the manager.”

“A pleasure to meet you.”

Sakuma to not comment on the apology entirely, lest there be more apologies he has to accept. He’s there on a time limit, the next class he has to attend is Mathematics and he would really like to leave as soon as possible. The lunch trip has not stopped being strange. He still has no idea what he’s there for, except to sample Miyoshi’s delicious coffee apparently. He finds himself glancing with his eyes to the side, and Miyoshi is there, leaning against a table. His arms are crossed, yet the way he holds himself feels somewhat haughty as he observes them. Sakuma blinks and focuses his attention on Odagiri, who’s seated himself right next to a still-grinning Kaminaga.

“I’d like to get this interview done quickly, because I’ve been told that you’re on a tight schedule,” he says, procuring a sheaf of papers.

Sakuma isn’t sure he heard that right.

“Sorry? Iza- Kaminaga just told me that I’d get free food if I came here today with him. An interview…?”

The shock on Odagiri’s face is really obvious. He turns to Kaminaga, who just grins sheepishly and points a finger accusingly to Miyoshi.

“He told me to not say.”

Odagiri looks at Miyoshi, who only shrugs.

“I- Alright. I’m very sorry for this, Sakuma-san, I suppose I should explain,” Odagiri says, and to be quite honest, Sakuma’s the one feeling sorry here.

“I’m retiring soon and since the owner appointed Miyoshi as the new manager, I asked him to find me a replacement employee for the shop. I think you are the one he’s picked, but...”

Kaminaga suddenly whips his head around to look at Odagiri, and he just looks so exaggerated in his surprise it’s almost comical. Apparently he’s in the dark about something too, and that gives Sakuma slight satisfaction. Almost at the same time, there’s a loud clanking sound from behind the drinks bar. The man behind it looks almost as surprised as Kaminaga is, but he seems more resigned about it. He nods at them and quickly disappears behind the employee-only area behind heavy wooden doors. Miyoshi doesn’t even react. He still seems like he’s boring holes into Sakuma’s head.

“Wait, Odagiri- you’re retiring?!” Kaminaga is on his feet now, “You didn’t tell me!”

All of them are staring at him. Odagiri sighs.

“I was going to tell you eventually. Please sit down, or I’ll get someone else to conduct the interview with me,” his tone is very patient, somewhat long-suffering though.

“I get it. I’m sorry,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “I’ll leave,”

The men keep their silence as he walks out the front door in fast strides, entering the garden area instead and sits on a table with a pretty little rosebush encircling it. Jitsui walks over with someone else; a young man with a middle parting; and they both sit on the same table as Kaminaga. They talk to him, but from such a distance, Sakuma couldn’t make out what they’re saying. Jitsui catches Sakuma’s gaze and bows his head slightly.

“I knew this would happen,” Miyoshi says, taking the seat that Kaminaga just vacated, “Sooner or later. Better sooner I guess.”

“Getting back to the topic at hand, that is the situation,” Odagiri continues, as if nothing just happened.

He supposes that’s how most people deal with things like that though, and he listens as Odagiri lists the job requirement. Cleaning, taking orders, making drinks and food, and if he so wishes, he may have boarding. Everything sounds really appealing, and the pay sounds even better than his current job, but Sakuma is sceptical. It just sounds too good to be true. Sakuma points at the papers Miyoshi procured from a binder.

“Is this contract one for a permanent employment? I don’t think I’d like to do this forever.”

“Yes, it is, I suppose, for permanent employment,” Odagiri confirms.

Miyoshi’s expression is blank, but there is a small twitch on one of his eyebrows.

“Being a barista is a completely legitimate occupation, if you’re thinking otherwise.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he starts to say, but he then realises, there is nothing he would like to say that would refute Miyoshi’s accusation. He’s never once thought of serving people as an occupation that he would like to do forever. Perhaps it’s because of his aspirations to serve as a law enforcer, but he’s only viewed customer service as temporary. As something people work at for a few months or years at most, then move on from. Sakuma lowers his eyes. It is quite obvious with how the employees of this café hold themselves; that they take pride in what they do.

“Since you’ve approved of his coffee-making skills, I’d thought you would want to actually convince him to join us, Miyoshi?” Odagiri doesn’t even sound teasing, just matter-of-fact.

“If he doesn’t want to, I couldn’t possibly make him,” Miyoshi says, “But yes. The coffee was good.”

“T-thanks?”

Sakuma is surprised that he even remembers what his coffee tastes like, since most of Miyoshi’s orders from Starbucks that he know of are weirdly gross concoctions. In fact, the only normal drink he’s ordered from him was a no-hassle large cappuccino two or three weeks ago. Is that the coffee he meant? Somehow, it’s flattering, coming from someone like him.

“Well, we would all have to try his coffee for ourselves later,” Odagiri says, “I’ve heard from Kaminaga that you’re a Rounin. We’re not against employing students, if that’s your concern.”

With this, his eyes flit over to Kaminaga, who is chatting with Jitsui, drinking something that looks cold. He doesn’t really seem that down anymore. Odagiri’s eyes seem to soften at the sight.

“You should keep a copy of this offer. It’s open till next month…or until we get someone else to fill in.”

Sakuma thanks him. Miyoshi walks him out, and Kaminaga is already waiting outside.

Miyoshi leans against the doorframe, hands crossed. He’s shorter than Sakuma, so when he does look at him, he has to look up. Through his eyelashes, his eyes look even darker than the brown it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t know what to think of him, especially now that it’s made clear that he’s the one who got him this impromptu job offer. However, he doesn’t want to be rude, so he bows slightly.

“Thank you for the hospitability. I will think about this,” he says, gesturing to the folder he’s holding under his arm, “Till we meet again.”

Miyoshi tucks a hair behind his ear; his smile feels condescending, but genuine.

“Likewise.”

 

“That was a mess,” Sakuma says, as they walk down the path away from the café.

“Could have been better. But okay-ish.”

Sakuma stares at the man, letting him walk ahead because he’s sort of unsure of the way out of the area.

“So do I call you Izawa now, or Kaminaga?”

Kaminaga seems to contemplate this question for a moment, then shrugs.

“One’s my real name, and one’s a nickname. Use whatever you like,” he says finally, then adds, “Not Kaminaga at school though.”

“Fair.”

It’s sunny, but the breeze still makes it nice enough to be outside. The leaves of a nearby tree rustle in tune with the wind.

“So, what do you think about all that?” Kaminaga makes a swirling gesture with his hand, “All that mess.”

“The mess you helped orchestrate.”

He shrugs.

“It’s half Miyoshi’s idea.”

So half of it is still Kaminaga’s. Sakuma takes a deep breath.

“Anyway, I think…that Miyoshi guy… Is a weird character.”

“Him? Yeah, he’s pretty much a piece of work,” Kaminaga scoffs, “Why though, does he bother you? Other than his interest in bothering you at Starbucks.”

Sakuma considers the question for a moment. It certainly surprises him too that he’s taken so much interest in someone whom until earlier today, has only taunted him. He closes his eyes tightly to let himself clear his head. In the darkness, he sees Miyoshi’s figure as he’s gently pouring hot water on ground coffee beans, his bangs falling over his eyes. When he opens them again, he's still seeing the shadows of Miyoshi's fingertips.

“It was beautiful," he says.

“Huh?” Kaminaga says, and Sakuma suddenly snaps out his daydream.

He hasn't realised that he has stopped walking, and that Kaminaga is staring at him, face carefully blank. They’re standing on a flight of stairs that leads into their school’s general area. The sun beats down on them and the shadows are deep. As the shadow of some trees obscures him, Sakuma can’t really read into Kaminaga’s facial expression. He feels a sweat breaking at the back of his neck.

“I- I just didn’t think someone who kept ordering weird things like warm juice would make coffee like..that,” he says lamely, tearing his eyes away from the other man, “It’s kind of amazing.”

“I can’t really tell if you’re supposed to be smart or simple,” Kaminaga tells him curtly, “Or just dumb. You’re trying for law school but you’re so dumb.”

Feeling sort of offended, he tries to ask him what he means, but Kaminaga doesn’t want to elaborate. The walk back to the cram school is of uncharacteristic silence for the man he knew as Izawa Kazuo, but he doesn’t know if the man known as Kaminaga simply prefers silence or is brooding over what happened at the café earlier, so he simply allows it to carry on. That train of thought makes him realise that though he might go by Miyoshi at the café, it might not be his real name.

Maybe he’ll ask the next Monday, on Miyoshi's weekly Starbucks trip. Sakuma decides that he would really like to know it, now that they’ve properly met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And I ended up having more things I want to write for this AU, so I'm taking off the final chapter count for now, though I expect it to end at around chapter 4 or 5. The next chapter will definitely come after Christmas, since I have finals up till then...Haha.
> 
> Next time: Knowing more about Miyoshi, a talk at the riverbank and a meeting with the cafe's owner.


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